


Avengers Secret Santa

by undergroundjen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, BDSM, Black Sabbath - Freeform, Brothers, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Lovers, M/M, Orphans, Secret Santa, Work In Progress, bad childhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undergroundjen/pseuds/undergroundjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at Christmas 2012 Steve has decided to do Secret Santa with his work colleagues. They each have to give each other a present by Christmas Day. But of course it is the Avengers so nothing is that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Santa Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Set in 2012 because of one of the presents, and it's when I started planning it. 
> 
> I am working on it but there will be no strict time when chapters shall be released. They'll all be off varying lengths too. 
> 
> Each chapter shall be each character giving another a gift.

It was all Steve’s fault. Tony was sure of it. It was always Steve’s fault. Him and his need to try and do ‘group bonding.’ Tony thought it was ridiculous. They were work colleagues. They didn’t need to ‘bond.’ They worked just fine. However Steve was not that interested in listening to him. Tony didn’t care. Tony was having all the fun in the world. Tony did not want to team bond.

Never the less Tony was in S.H.I.E.L.D HQ lounging in a chair in a room with the rest of the team; wishing he were in his workshop, or drinking.

“What’s Fury doing here?” Tony whispered loudly to Bruce who was sitting awkwardly next to him. Obviously wishing, that he too, were anywhere else. 

Fury stood in the corner and glared at him from his one eye. As Tony ignored the angry eye he looked around the room and saw that everyone looked unhappy to be there. Clint was leaning against the wall with his sunglasses on glaring at the floor. Natasha was standing rigidly next to him filling her nails in trackies and a S.H.I.E.L.D. issued t-shirt. Thor was talking quietly, quietly for Thor at least; to Agent about some food he had eaten the previous week when he got lost in Boston. Thor was an interesting being. Then at the head of the table, watching all the glaring, uncomfortable people was Steve with an honest to God, or Odin, Santa hat. Tony presumed with everyone’s names in. 

“So, um…thanks for, uh, coming. This was something that I learnt about since I’ve, err, been back. Secret Santa. And people do it with their colleagues, as something fun.”

“What is this Christmas?” asked Thor looking confused. Everyone looked around at each other, no one knowing how to explain the concept of God and Jesus, and no one really wanting to.

“I’ll give you some reading on the subject.” Said Agent to Thor. 

“So, anyway,” Steve continued “I thought we could do it. Everyone’s names here and we just pick it out. It’s the first of December now so we just make sure we give people their presents by the twenty-fifth. Yeah so I’ll go first. Also don’t forget it’s meant to be a secret”

Steve held the hat in one hand and reached in with the other. He read the piece of paper and smiled, putting it in his pocket. Next Fury stormed over to the hat and shoved his hand in roughly to the hat and grabbed a name out. He didn’t even look at the piece of paper before storming out of the room. Bruce went next. He nervously picked out his paper, looked at it, then his demeanour became more relaxed and he strolled out the room. 

Thor smiled at everyone and clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Shield brother I shall happily join you in this wondrous tradition.”

As he grabbed his paper and left the room with a wave. Tony couldn’t help the feeling that the room got a little bit duller when he left. It was always like that with Thor. He was a bright light. Someone who always made things bigger and better than what they were. There was no doubt in Tony’s mind that Thor could be as blood thirsty and as ruthless as in the stories; but with them? He was just a fun ball of light.  
Clint went up next and pulled out a name, looked at it and put it back. “It was my own name.” He mumbled before pulling out a new name and slipping out the room with Natasha hot on his heels with her own piece of paper in her hands. 

Agent walked up and got a piece of paper from the Santa hat. Tony couldn’t help but laugh as Steve went red. Agent just glared at him and, remembering the threats he had previously received of Agent, Tony stopped abruptly. Agent just walked off like he had a million other things to be doing, which Tony suspected he probably did.

With Agent gone it was just Tony and Steve left in the room. Tony glared at Steve and Steve glared back. 

“What if I don’t like the person I get?”

“Then you shouldn’t have picked last.”

“Can I swap with you?”

“There should be no one on the team that you don’t like.”

“What if I get Fury?”

“Just pick the paper out of the hat Tony.”

“I never actually said I would do this.”

With that Steve slammed down the hat in front of Tony and walked out of the room saying, “Just get the person in the hat a present, it is not that difficult. Not even for someone as spoilt as you.”

Tony glared at the empty room before putting his hand into the hat and pulling out a name. 

“Oh fuck.”


	2. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint get's his Secret Santa Present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added some extra tags for further on the story that I don't think I had added.
> 
> Also this story basically contains most of my favourite tropes of The Avengers, so I'm sorry if it's a little higgldy-piggldy.

“So was it actually your own name?” 

Natasha was following him down the corridor towards to gym. The place they had both been heading before they remembered about the stupid meeting. 

“Yes.”

“So who have you got?” 

She had caught up to him and they walked next to each other, talking quietly and glaring at anyone who passed. It was always fun to make them scared. 

“It’s supposed to be a secret.”

Natasha just punched him in the arm. It hurt. He carried on ignoring her until they got to the changing rooms to the gym. While Natasha was already dressed in gym clothes, Clint wasn’t. He took off his sunglasses and started to strip in front of her while she got his sweats out of his locker. 

“You going to tell me?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I got Phil.”

“Ouch. What are you going to get him?”

“I have no idea. I think some stake out is going to be in order.”

“Good plan, I can always help.”

“I think this is going to be a solo mission. Besides you will be too busy getting your Secret Santa a present. So who is he?”

“How do you know it’s not you?”

She gave him a look to said ‘yeah, like I wouldn’t know.’ Clint sat on one of the benches and put his head in his hands. Natasha just sat next to him. 

“Is it bad? Is it Stark?”

“It’s worse.”

“Worse than Stark?”

“Fury.”

There was a pregnant pause while Clint pretended the ground had swallowed him whole. He then chastised himself for being acting like a child and reminding himself that he is a highly accomplished assassin. He has several different bounties on his head, in his profession that’s a good thing. Wanted in several countries and has overcome a disability that he was told would take him out of the field for good. He would not act like a teenager with his first crush.

Clint shook himself out of his resolve and got up, taking his hearing aids to put them in his locker with the rest of his clothes. Natasha came up behind him and clapped him on his shoulder. 

It was part of their routine. Clint liked routines. It made him feel safe. With everything that was so chaotic at work, and his life, it was nice that there were things he could always rely on. He and Natasha had their own little routines that he could always rely on. Whenever Clint took his hearing aids out Natasha would always put her hand on his shoulder, just to let him know that she was there.

They walked into the gym and Natasha just glared at the couple fighting on the mat until they left and Clint and Natasha took their places. Clint closed his eyes to feel his surroundings. He started to relax as he let his instincts to take over. He felt the air around him move around him as Natasha went for the attack. 

They fought for forty minutes before hitting the showers. Clint was tired and sweaty but had managed not to be knocked unconscious, it was always positive to still be conscious after going head to head with the best assassin in the world. Clint felt confident that that was a correct assumption. It wasn’t like there was award shows for best assassins. The thought made him laugh, where he, Natasha and other assassins from all over the world dressed in the glitzy and glamorous clothes like actors wore at the Oscars. They would all be mixed up so he and Natasha would sit at a table with others like the Winter Solider and Sabretooth. The awards would be held by Fury and Deadpool would be sitting next to Gamora and Spider Woman. If he could die Clint believes that the two deadly women would kill Deadpool before the first awards had been given. Clint started laughing to himself at the idea that everyone wouldn’t have turned on each other by the end of the show.

The stall to the show was violently opened and a wet and naked Natasha stood in front of him looking concerned. 

‘What are you laughing at?’ Natasha signed in America Sign Language. 

‘Nothing, just silly thoughts.’ Clint signed back in Russian Sign Language.

‘Move over, my shower went cold.’ Natasha signed in British Sign Language. 

Natasha came into his shower stall and grabbed his soap to start washing herself. Clint sighed and fought for some space in the cubicle so he could wash the shampoo from his eyes. 

They were finally all washed and went back to the lockers to get dressed and for Clint to put back in his hearing aids. 

“Do you know what you’re going to do about Secret Santa?” Natasha asked as they left the lockers.

“Kill myself?”

“Very funny. Seriously?”

“Get him a bottle of scotch or something and pretend nothing ever happened.” 

“You could do that, or, as it’s Christmas you could be honest?”

Clint stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at her. 

“Since when did you get into the Christmas spirit?”

“I will say this only once. Because I care about you, you stupid prick and I want you to be happy.”

Clint was about to respond when both of their phones started to go off. Glaring at her he answered his phone.

“Yep.”

\--------------------------------

Clint came back from the mission a week later. It had gone well, just getting intel on the Russians, or the Ukrainians, possibly the Germans. Clint knew he had to go to Australia for the mission, or it was New Zealand? They all merge into one eventually. He got the intel and didn’t get shot at. It was successful. 

Except for one annoying English guy. He was on a completely different mission but they had the same target. Except Mr. Johnny English wanted to kill him. 

Stupid MI6 causing problems. 

The guy was a complete idiot. With stupid blonde hair and suits and Clint would be happy to never run into him again. Maybe Deadpool could kill him before he was killed by Gamora at the Assassin Oscars. That would be fun. 

Clint lay down in his bed at his Chicago apartment. He liked it here because when international things happened it was always New York. Always. Here he could relax in the city life, without aliens. S.H.I.L.D could always find him. Always. 

Clint had been really thinking about what to get Fury for Secret Santa. He was his boss, so he should get him something appropriate. However Clint knew what he really wanted to get him. It was completely inappropriate for so many reasons.

He was a deadly assassin and a member of the Avengers and should not have the need to want to submit so desperately. He was herald a hero, by people who didn’t know him of course, heroes did not want to give over all their power to another person and let them make all their decisions so that they didn’t have to. He was supposed to be like Captain America who could take on everything on the chin with a smile and a can do attitude, he was not supposed to want his life to be the hands of someone else. He spent so much time on missions making decisions that had real repercussions; when he came home he didn’t want to waste energy on what he was going to do in his down time. It was more than that though. He wanted to serve someone else, it wasn’t just submission. He wanted to feel like he meant something to someone. That he was important.

Of course the person that he wanted to give everything to was his boss, and an international spy, and already controlled everything. He had everything at his fingertips, why would he want Clint? 

Also Fury was his boss…

Clint curled up on the centre of his bed. He needed Natasha. She always help him when he felt like this. It never lasted but it was better than nothing. Reaching to his bedside table he grabbed his phone and without looking sent a text to Natasha. 

He carried on lying in a ball on his bed until his phone start to ring. Clint answered it by putting the phone to his ear and grunting.

“How was the mission?”

Grunt.

“So you’ve been thinking about Fury again?”

Grunt.

“Need me to come over?”

Grunt.

“Where are you?”

Grunt.

“Clint, despite what many people think I am not a mind reader, nor Sherlock Holmes. So I’ll ask again, where are you?”

“Chicago.”

“I can get there in 20 minutes.”

Clint sat up staring his phone. “How are you so close?”

Clint heard her smirk on the other side of the phone. “Maybe I am a mind reader.”

Clint lay back down on the bed. “See you soon, Mr Holmes.”

\--------------------------------

Clint heard his door open and did nothing. It was either Natasha or someone trying to kill him. He could always move if it was someone to kill him and if it was Natasha he didn’t want to move. 

Clint heard Natasha come into the room where she stood for a bit looking at him. Clint didn’t bother to move; she would tell him if she wanted him to move. Natasha walked over to his bed and got comfortable against his headboard, resting Clint’s head against her jean-clad leg. 

“Oh Clint.” 

Natasha stroked Clint’s hair in a soothing manner that she knew Clint liked. She could never give Clint want he truly wanted. It wasn’t in her to do so. She needed to turn off as much as him, but she helped when she could. It was why she was single, Natasha said that was why she didn’t want a boyfriend, she needed to turn off and not pay attention to others. Except him, she cared about him and that was enough for her. 

Natasha started to hum a Russian lullaby to help him relax enough to fall asleep. It was nice to be lulled to sleep with a lullaby. He never had it as a child and it was so nice to have it now. It made a difference to fall asleep when he felt safe.

“Shmee more Clint,  
Mee lye Clint,  
Bar you shkee,  
Bararr you.

Shmee more Cli-iii-nt,  
Mee-ee lye Clint  
Bar you shkee,

Barrarr you.”

Clint drifted into sleep vaguely aware that Natasha was taking out his hearing aids. She carried on singing to him until he couldn’t hear anymore and fell asleep.

\------------------------

Clint woke up slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings. It was nice when he was with Natasha, he felt relaxed and safe. He sat up slowly and looked around his bedroom. Natasha was sitting on his chair with her legs up on the dresser going through his phone. 

She had started to grow her hair out again so that now it was passed her shoulders. It was also platinum blonde, probably for a mission. She was always a fan of her red hair otherwise.

He search on his bedside table and put in his hearing aids. 

“Why are you on my phone?”

“You have an unknown email on your personal account.”

Clint got up and sighed. It didn’t really matter when he thought about her going through his phone. She didn’t really care and he couldn’t really stop her. 

“Is it interesting?”

“Oh yeah.”

She throws the phone over to him and he catches it, wondering what was the email. Opening it up he saw:

 

Subject: I know something you don’t know.  
From: likeimgoingtogiveyoumyactualemail@nanananana.com

Attachment: youarenevergoingtobelievethis.jpeg  
Birthcertificate1.jpeg  
Birthcertificate2.jpeg  
Totalproof.doc  
Hisnumber.Doc

 

Happy Christmas Bitch xo

Clint looked through the documents in stunned silence. 

“You seen this?”

“Yep.”

“You believe this?”

“On the assumption that only we knew about Secret Santa and guessing who this came from. Yes.”

“You don’t make assumptions.”

“I already sent it to Phil to get it verified.”

“So it’s real.”

“Confirmed.”

“It gave me a number, to call.”

“You going to?”

“I dunno.”

Clint looked down at his phone. It wasn’t beyond the realms of the possibility, which why if someone wanted to trick him this was the way to do it. But Natasha said that Phil had checked it out, and they would never lie to him. Which made it true. Did that really mean that he should call? They had lived their whole lives wi-

“Call.” Natasha’s voice pulled him out of his inner monologue. 

“What?”

“You will never make this decision on your own. You notoriously pick the worst decisions.”

“I make good decisions in the field.”

“We’re not in the field. This is your life. You never make the right decisions.”

“I wouldn’t say that was necessarily t-“ 

“We don’t have time for me to go through every one of your bad decisions. Call, send a text, I don’t know but contact him.”

Clint carried on looking through the information. Looking at the photos that had been sent. 

“What do I say?”

“How about you call and say, Hi. James Bond. I met you in my last mission in Tasmania,” Clint realised, that’s where he was. “Just found out we’re brothers, wanna meet up for drinks.”

Clint just looked at her. 

“You’re a spy, how do you not have tact?”

“I don’t need tact. I have boobs. That’s not going to work for you.” Natasha got up and walked over to Clint’s bed. “It’s going to be okay. Just call him.” Natasha ruffled Clint’s hair affectionately and walked out the room. She stopped at the door and turned back to look at him. “Also sort your Secret Santa out. Just go for it, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“He’s my boss?” Clint shouted after her, she was gone.

Taking in a deep breath Clint dialled the number that had been sent to him. He waited while it rang and started to really regret his decision. When he thought about it the last time, the only time, he had met James Bond. They didn’t exactly get on well. He was just about to put the phone down and throw this whole thing away as a terrible idea when someone picked up the other end.

“Hello?” asked the English voice, confused. “How did you get this number?”

“We met, in Tasmania. Anyway that’s not important I’m just going to say this. We’re brothers, I have proof. Want to go for drinks?”

“What?”

As Clint started to explain in more detail about what had happened he realised it could have been worse, one positive life step done, one more to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I apologise for my bastardisation of the Russian language. This was a lullaby my Granny would sing to me. So it is based completely on what I remember and written down phonetically. I am so sorry and if anyone knows this lullaby and knows how to write it I would love for you to tell me and I will change it :D 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for the comments and Kudos and Hits.
> 
> It was very sweet, so thank you :D
> 
> Have a good day :D


	3. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha decides what to do for her Secret Santa and gets her own.

Natasha was on her way to the gym when she got a page to go to Agent Coulson’s office. She turned on her heel and walked towards the office, ignoring all the S.H.E.I.L.D officers who disappeared when she came around the corner.  She enjoyed the power and fear she had over the lower agents. It felt good.

 

She walked into Agent Coulson’s office, expecting there to be just Agent Coulson sitting behind his desk expectantly, instead it was nearly all Avengers; sans Tony. Natasha saw Clint leaning against the wall and she went over to lean next to him.

 

“Crisis?” Natasha signed to him.

 

“No clue. Tony’s late.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

Tony, eventually, swaggered in and Captain Rogers explained that he wanted to do Secret Santa. Natasha stopped paying attention. She was an adult, an assassin, at the world’s most secret organisation. They did not do Secret Santa. Except now it seemed they did because of some bleeding heart.

 

She liked Captain Rogers well enough. He was a nice guy but nice didn’t get very far in her experience.

 

Fury was the first to pick out a name and Natasha saw Clint watching him. It was sweet but mainly sad and defiantly misguided and doom to failure. She was always going to support him but love was for children and whatever misguided feeling Clint had became obvious, at least to her, whenever he was in the same room as him.

 

Natasha waited till Clint had gone and then grabbed her name. She didn’t end up looking at it till after she had finished sparring with Clint. The name would be a hard one but one that was possible. At least she didn’t have someone like Tony. She would have never known what to get the arrogant prick.  

 

Her Secret Santa was special though, she needed to get him something special. It would take planning. Natasha was confident in her plan to make the perfect present. Even though she didn’t believe in Christmas or anything remotely to the point she wanted to get him something to say that she understood and appreciated what he had done for her.

 

 

It would take some research; there were things people like them kept hidden. For good reason. They had to keep the people that they cared about secret; it was all about digging in the right tunnels.

 

A week had passed and Natasha had been called out for a small recon mission. It hadn’t taken a lot of effort for Natasha to do what she had to do so in her down time she would dig about on her StarkPad. It was one god thing about the arrogant Tony Stark. He was paranoid. A lifetime of potential corporate espionage had caused Tony to make sure that he was always ahead of the hacking curve.  It was helpful when wanting to search and find things that you didn’t want anyone else to know.

 

Natasha had almost tracked her down; she had got it down to the town by the end of the mission.  She got back from the mission, bored and itching to go back to the gym and actually have something to do. Natasha hated recon missions; unless something went terrible they were incredibly dull. Before she could go to the gym however she had to go to the storage room that was called her and Clint’s office.

 

Most agents worked at desks and had their own bunks but because Natasha and Clint were both Avengers as well they were ‘generously’ given their own office.

 

When she walked in she went over to her own messy side of the room. Clint was a neat control freak and everything on his side of the room was perfectly laid out; while Natasha was a more of the opinion that she knew were everything was, even if no one else did.  Chucking some things to the side to make space for her mission report that had to be written Natasha noticed something new. It was a black box with a red spider on the top.

 

She regarded it with suspicion. Someone had come into their office and left something for her. There were only four people who had a key. Not even the cleaners could get into their office. Regarding it carefully Natasha saw a tag to the side. Taking a pencil to turn it so that she could read the recognisable scrawl

 

_From Santa_

Breathing a small sigh of relief that it was only her stupid Secret Santa present and nothing untoward she grabbed the stupid box off her desk. At least she knew whom her Secret Santa was and it wasn’t going to be something stupid from Stark.

 

She sat down and took off the small lid. Inside there were two brown and white photos that were photos that were discoloured with age. One was of a stern but beautiful woman who had all her hair scraped back into a bun on the top of her head. She also had a plait running around the crown of her head. In the photo with her was a young woman who was obviously trying to emanate her mother. She tried, and failed, to make the same stern face and had done her hair the same as her mother.

 

The next photo was of the same two women. They were both older in years and fashion had changed but there was joy in the younger woman’s face as she held a small baby. The older woman was still as stern but there was softness in her eyes as she looked down on her daughter and granddaughter.

 

Natasha could tell that they were mother and daughter they were so alike in features. The same full lips and high cheekbones. Their eyes and noses were the same too; eyes that were pale and long straight noses.

 

The stern look though was something Natasha saw every time she looked at her self in the mirror.  Turning the photos over she saw that the person who had given them to her had written on the back of the first photo.

 

_Elena Arbasov. (1934-1985) Liliya Arbasov (1963-1985).  Taken in 1975._

Written on the back of the second photo;

 

_Elena, Liliya and Natasha Arbasov (1984) Taken in 1984._

Natasha looked back down at the familiar faces and let the tears fall silently down her face. She had never seen a photo of her family before. She had never even known her name, but there it was. Her name and her mother and grandmother.

 

Natasha wiped away the tears and put the photos in between random files in one of her draws. She composed herself and, ignoring her mission report, went to the gym.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so short. I may go back and rewrite it but I'm not sure. Hope you enjoyed this little bit of Christmas Magic (in July)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it.
> 
> Have a good day :D


End file.
